"Folks call me Vinnie, Vinnie Da Bookie." A pretty boy smile came along with the slight accent, a remnant of a life Vinnie was just not quite ready to leave behind. "I make da odds fer ol man Sal here at Trop'cana Sands."

"Some you guys is wonderin' 'How's a rough bastad like that get ta be in a place like dis?' Well I'll tells ya. Sal an me we go ways back. Practically ta when we's was in knickers and bouncin on our mamma's knees."

Vinnie made himself more comfortable where he sat in the dining room of the Bellerophon. Across the table from him sat Ms Candace Twist, ace race reporter looking sharp as always. Vinnie always liked dining with Candace, she smelled nice and would listen to his stories for hours, even the ones she had heard before.

"Anyways Me an Sal, one day we gots ta thinkin, Sal he does lots of thinkin you know, We was thinkin and Sal says 'Vinnie I want to run a racetrack.' Well ya coulda knocked me ova with a feather then cause there I was thinkin it had been way to long since Sal and I had visited the track."

A tuxedoed waiter brings over a bottle of wine, which Vinnie casually approves, before glasses are poured for both himself and Ms Twist.

"Can-Can baby, Did I tell you how scrumptious you look tanight?" Vinnie gave the reporter a friendly leer, to which she just smiled that mysterious smile of hers.

"I know, I know, 'Back ta the story Vinnie'." Taking a long drink from his glass before he continued. "Anyways, Sal an I starts lookin for somes property ta be buildin this thing on. We Checked Jersey, and Brooklyn.. We even went out ta Yonkers But nada. The we met dis chap Hector. Hector he was real nice, but crazy as a bloody loon. Saids ta Sal he did 'What you two need are flying horses.' Wacko right?"

"Well turns out Sal didn't think Hector was all that wacko after all, and here we are."